


narrated for them

by miaxnder



Category: Diabolik Lovers
Genre: F/M, Multi, No Vampires AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2019-10-05 13:38:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17326022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miaxnder/pseuds/miaxnder
Summary: imaliveyoudontknowimhere11 kids that are falling apart completely.





	1. swim

**Author's Note:**

> Snapshots of their lives (in a vague chronological, plot-based order) - some chapters are mostly plot, some chapters are mostly character study, some chapters are both :)
> 
> Everything is falling apart...

The words left his mouth sharp and cold, a manifestation of the armour he so ardently enforced. Even as he tried to justify it to himself, the steel backfired into the warm flesh of his heart. Her expression remained gentle, but she let her hand fall back to her side.

“I’ll go.” She smiled at him, as if it was no bother to her, and Ayato felt himself choke up at the lack of disappointment in her eyes. He tried to disguise it, turning away from her and staring into space. He tuned out from everything, ignoring his own, treacherous thoughts, rejecting the unwanted tightening in his chest.

It was not until a few minutes later that he noticed Yui had disappeared from the warmth of his bed. He sat up for a few minutes, distracting himself with the deep breaths escaping his lips. He felt like he was drowning in his sheets, and he succumbed to them, laughing to himself when his head hit the pillow, the sound devoid of all humour. He felt the sudden urge to scream, release all his pent up frustration at himself - he didn’t, subjecting himself to the suffering he deserved.

His sleep that night was plagued with bright, hopeful sherbet eyes, flushed skin against his, words of misguided comfort, and his own stupid, _stupid_ cruelty.

School normally brought out something else in him that he despised. He latched on to Yui at every possible moment, painting this perfect picture of himself and his property. Ayato had never felt more disgusted with himself than when he was blessed with Yui’s smile, laced with pure, true, unrivaled _joy_ when he linked their fingers together in the corridor, in front of everybody. He traipsed through the day, so distracted with her at his side, so distorted by what he was doing to her. She was there at practice, cheering him on with pride, and he turned and joked along with the slander of his teammates. She was straight down from the stands when coach started asking him about Saturday games, squeezing his hand as he bragged about a team that didn’t exist and didn’t need him. He kissed her by the gate, fingers twisting in her hair, pulling more gently than he ever thought he could, subconsciously tugging her closer, hoping and praying that she could see through everything as he sent her home with a sneer and a cold rejection.

He was treading water with her, too far in to clamber out of the pool, too anxious to dive down to where he wanted to be.

Because the truth was, he _cared._

Feelings weren’t supposed to be a part of his life. He would do everything he could to succeed, take everything, _be_ everything, so his bitch of a mother would leave him alone. He had always worked to keep himself above everyone else, above feelings. And then she had entered his life, with her trusting nature and bittersweet understanding, and complicated everything. He hoped she would be able to break him down, see the wretched thing she had done to his heart, love him. Make him love her.

If he kept swimming like this, she would hate him one day.

He was okay with that.


	2. boy in the bubble

It was 6:48 and Azusa was walking home. His head was ringing in anticipation, a sound echoing with both irrational excitement and all too rational fear, a conflicting crescendo of dissonance. When the light displacement of gravel beneath feet penetrated the comforting hum, a bright clear bell tolling for his punishment, his muscles contracted as he walked, forcing his fingertips deep into his upper arms, a mocking caricature of comfort wracking his body as his path began to falter.

When the angel behind him spoke, he gasped in delight, the pain he felt only sharpening the glow of the figure, heightening the sound pushing against his skull. The fingertips knotted deep in his matted hair providing him the comfort he had been seeking.

“You’re disgusting.” Azusa could only smile sadly to himself, and let the boy scream and shout and kick and cry, his comfort deeply rooted in this purpose. If he made other people feel better through his pain, he had a reason to live, right?

He felt the wind knocked out of him when Kanato broke his ribs. He felt warmth on his face when Kanato broke his nose. He felt his mouth twist and his eyes twitch when the blood dripped onto his shirt.

He felt alive when he held his hands up in surrender.

Suddenly there was silence, in Azusa’s head, on the streets. Kanato was stood shaking, shoulders tense, fists quaking, and silent. His eyes were glistening and wide, his skin broken over the knuckles, strangled chokes trapped behind his closed lips.

Azusa had long ago learnt that he was not crying. But he had not since learnt what he _was_ doing.

“Go.” And though Azusa’s sick, sick brain told him to stay, told him to provoke a fight, told him how much he liked it, he went. Because without him around, Kanato would suffer.

When he got home, there was cold chicken, a wet flannel and a change of clothes on the table. When Yuma walked through the room, he only glanced at his brother sadly, shook his head and left.

Azusa ignored the food, his heart was pumping and his chest screaming in agony, but he only found it in him to quickly clean himself up. His mind was running as he undid his bandages, barely even noting the fading scars these days. He was captured in reliving his new purpose, at the mercy of Kanato, and he smiled as he lay in bed.

He was content knowing he had made Kanato’s frustrations more bearable, relieved his suffering, just for those ten minutes. Maybe he even hoped that it would reduce his fear and anxiety, and he fell asleep thinking of the boy - who was traipsing home with Azusa’s blood on his hands, walking slowly, _too slow_ \- going home to his mother.


	3. water fountain

It was stifling. Everything was far too hot, sweat gluing the sheets to his skin and fear and regret grasping at his heart. He forced himself to sit up, staring at nothing, shaking, trying so hard to _think_ of nothing, sobbing.

When a cool arm wrapped around his shoulder, and pulled him in, firm and guiding, he couldn’t even remove his gaze from where it was fixed. He felt a chin jabbing at the top of his head, prompting him to respond, but his mind was trapped and warped, dragging him under.

“Hey.” Laito only heard the air he shakily forced out of his nose clearly, his companion’s voice lost amongst the noise of his distress. “Hey!”

“Come on, this isn’t like you, you little shit.” He let himself clutch to the arm he had been offered, too preoccupied to think of how pitiful he must look. When he found himself unable to snap out of it, his breathing becoming more shallow, more frequent, he felt himself pulled even closer.

“Come on, please. I’m not used to this.” The voice was shaking as it spoke. “Shit.”

“Hey, look at me.” It was strained and desperate, shaking his shoulders gently. He forced himself to meet the eyes in front of him. “It’s over now. It’s all over. You can do it. _Shit._ Can you, like, try, um, breathing properly?”

“I’m so fucking bad at this. Just, like, follow my breaths, okay?” It was painful to count, it took too long, he thought his lungs would never be full. And with the tremor in his saviour’s breathing, the irregularity brought on by concern, it took that fraction longer.

Finally, he was able to breath naturally, albeit slightly shakily, but he couldn’t find it in him to be ashamed or embarrassed. He just wanted his big brother.

“Thanks, Ayato.”

“Shit. Don’t fucking scare me like that.” Ayato was shaking, his right hand pressed hard over his eyes, flattening out then contracting again, as he rubbed his face. His breathing evened out a lot faster than Laito’s had. “ _Shit._ We’ve all been struggling with this, but… ah _fuck._ I’m so shit at this, what do we do? Like I can’t go back and stop the trial from happening, but like… damn it. Should we let you sleep alone? You want me and Kanato to stay in here with you?”

Laito forced out a light chuckle in an attempt to reassure his brother. “That might make it worse.”

“Shit. Fuck, yeah. I’m so stupid, sorry for bringing it up. God I’m so fucking incompetent.”

Laito couldn’t take his eyes of his brother. “You’re getting nightmares too.”

“Huh, yeah.” They may not always get along, but this was his big brother, sometimes they just needed each other. Ayato let out a nervous laugh, consisting mostly of air, and put his head in his hands again. “I guess even behind bars the bitch won’t leave us alone.”

Laito slung his arm over Ayato’s shoulder. “Wanna get the insomniac and binge watch some crap tv?”

That light snort again. “Sure, why not?”


End file.
